


The Rest, As They Say

by bare-ankles (Ophelia_Bedelia)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Teacher!Harry, Tower of London, also harry and louis being cute with kids, historian!louis, in a castle, like seriously this is some medieval fluffery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:47:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Bedelia/pseuds/bare-ankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“These are your guides, Gerald, Emily, and Louis. Please don’t hesitate to ask them any questions. They are very knowledgeable and they would love to answer them.”<br/>The one called Louis approaches Harry’s group, big smile in place. He is younger than the other two. Certainly younger than Harry had expected. Certainly with better hair. Certainly.</p><p>Or the one where Harry takes his class on a trip to the Tower of London and Louis knows a lot about medieval architecture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest, As They Say

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is what happens when I watch too many PBS history specials. Apparently, documentaries about decapitations inspire me to write fluffy nonsense, go figure. Anyway.  
> Thank you, thank you to my editor in chief [ Ruth ](http://mad-adder.tumblr.com/) she is the raddest!  
> Also if you wanna chat, I'm [ probably chilling on tumblr right now ](http://bare-ankles.tumblr.com/)

“Charlotte, give Michael back his lunchbox, please.” Harry calls over the happy din of the crowded bus. He crosses his arms and does his best to look stern. In the next seat over, Michael grabs at the air where Charlotte is holding his lunch hostage, just out of reach. “Charlotte…” Harry uses his Last Warning tone. The girl shoots him an impish grin, but hands over the lunchbox. “Thank you. And I need you on your best behavior today, alright? Or we won’t get to go on fun trips like this anymore.” The last thing Harry needs is for them to ruffle some stuffy, old yeoman and get kicked out of the Tower of London. Or like, imprisoned or something.

When the bus comes to a stop, and the kids clamber out onto the pavement, Harry divides them into three tour groups, making a slight adjustment to the list as he does so, ensuring that Charlotte is with him. She punches the air when she hears her name and gives his leg a hug.  
Yep, gotta keep an eye on that whippersnapper.

They walk in their groups to the entrance gate where they are to meet their tour guides—historians hired by the Tower to give kids a history lesson while they fawn over torture devices. Harry was never much into history. Bunch of old white men being assholes forever. But, like any other self-respecting adult, he does like a good castle. 

A woman with a nametag greets them at the gate and shepherds them toward three more people with nametags. “These are your guides, Gerald, Emily, and Louis. Please don’t hesitate to ask them any questions. They are very knowledgeable and they would love to answer them.”

The one called Louis approaches Harry’s group, big smile in place. He is younger than the other two. Certainly, younger than Harry had expected. Certainly, with better hair. Certainly. 

Louis extends his hand. “Mr. Styles, is it?”

“Uh, yes! It’s Harry. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Hello, all,” Louis says, addressing the students. “My name is Louis. So glad you could be here! Welcome to the Tower of London. Does anybody know who built the Tower?”

A boy named Brian raises his hand and Louis nods. He says, “Was it the queen?”

Louis’ smile widens. “No, but good guess. She probably could’ve done. Actually, it was William the Conqueror. Way, way back in 1066. That was almost a thousand years ago!”

There is a chorus of ‘wow’s from the kids. Harry looks down and has to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

“Shall we go explore it then? Mr. Styles, what sayest thou?”

“Yeah, let’s do it! Come on, you lot.”

They follow Louis to a long courtyard. He points over the wall to the grassy trench below, surrounding the Tower. “That there is the moat,” he says and moves to stand in front of it, facing the group. “It used to be filled with water, back in the day, to keep out enemies.”

“Couldn’t they just swim?” Asks Charlotte.

“You know, raising your hand doesn’t do much good when you talk at the same time,” Harry says, gently.

“That’s alright,” Says Louis. “Good question, miss…”

“Charlotte.” She beams. 

“Charlotte! Yes, that’s a good question, love. They probably could have, to be honest. But the nifty thing about moats is they made it very difficult to get things like battering rams to the tower walls. They also made it much harder to dig tunnels underneath the walls cause they’d just fill right up with water.”

Charlotte nods. “I would have just swam though.”

Louis and Harry both laugh at that. Louis has a nice laugh. “Well,” he says. “Don’t let ol’ Will the Conk hear you saying that.”

Next, they enter the structure itself. Louis leads the group to a dingy room with some chains on the walls and other iron contraptions on display.

“This is one of the torture chambers,” Louis says, and his voice gets a little lower as if he’s telling them all a secret. “This is where the monarchs would bring prisoners to get information out of them.”

“How did they do it?” Asks a girl called Zoe.

“Well,” says Louis, glancing briefly at Harry before continuing. “There were many different systems back then. One of the more popular ones was the rack, which would basically pull the prisoner in different directions and stretch ‘em out.”

Everyone ‘ew’s. 

“Yeah it’s pretty nasty stuff.”

“Why did they do it?” Asks Brian.

“Ah, well good question. Often times, these people were accused of treason, possible spies maybe, so the king or queen wanted to know everything the prisoners knew.”

“What did they do to murderers?” Charlotte shouts from the back.

“Hmm,” Louis thinks for a moment. “It would really depend on who they killed.”

“What did they do to people who traded illegal goods?”

Louis laughs. “I don’t know. Chain them up for a good long while, I suppose.”

“What did they do to children who nicked other people’s lunchboxes?” Harry cuts in, grinning. Louis grins back.

“Oh they were tickled mercilessly,” He says, failing to hold a serious face. 

Charlotte giggles like mad, and something warm settles in Harry’s chest. They move on to another room. 

 

Later, they wander the grounds some more, Louis pointing out pieces of architecture and saying things like “Those gargoyles were actually added in the 19th century. Pretty ugly, huh? Yeah, the Victorians had some questionable ideas about exterior décor.” And “These walls are fifteen feet thick! Can you believe that? That’s like the width of my whole flat!” Louis does a lot of wild gesticulating for someone talking about medieval architecture. But he seems to have this endless sea of information stored in his brain. And boundless enthusiasm. And a pretty mouth. 

Um.

After a couple of hours, it is time for the kids to head back to the bus. They meet up with the other groups on a nice patch of grass near the entrance first to eat their packed lunches. 

“Charlotte Payne, get down from there now. What will I tell your father if you fall into the moat?” She grins in that special way of hers that says ‘oh, I’ll stop _for now_ ’ and hops down off the wall. Hell if Harry doesn’t adore that kid.

He plops down next to Zayn, who looks decidedly less thrilled about medieval history than Harry feels.

“Well, you’re chipper. Something about public executions really fuels your fire, huh?” Zayn says, taking a rather aggressive bite of his sandwich.  


“Course not. But it is fascinating isn’t it?” Harry pokes him in the arm, grinning.

“Yeah well, maybe it depends on your tour guide. Your guy seemed pretty cool. I, however, got stuck with _fucking_ Gerald who went on for about twenty minutes about the _fucking_ ravens. Did you know there are ravens on the premises? Well I do now, thank you Gerald. I also know all of their names and where they generally like to hang out.”

Harry snorts. “Watch your language, sir. There are children present.” This earns him a smack. “Well, did the kids have fun at least?”

“Probably. I think so. They liked the chopping block.”

“Yeah, mine too. Go figure.” Harry glances up at Louis who is chatting with the other historians a little ways off. It would definitely be inappropriate to ask someone out while on chaperone duties. Right? Even an historian with a killer arse. Even an historian with a killer arse who just caught him staring and fucking _winked_.

Harry looks back at his sandwich, feeling his face getting hot. When he looks back up, Zayn’s eyes are narrowed.

“Oh, so it’s _history_ that’s got you so excited, is it? Yes, I suppose _history_ is pretty fit. Do you think _history_ is interested?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Zayn. I don’t know, maybe?” He thinks for a moment, then adds, “he’s really nice.”

“Well, alright then, that’s good to hear,” says Zayn, patting Harry on the knee. “Cause oh, what do you know? Looks like he’s coming over. So, I have a thing that I have to do over in that direction. Cheers.”

“Zayn, you little shit—“ but Zayn is already getting to his feet. He heads toward the other chaperones, just as Louis comes to a stop in front of Harry. 

“Hello, Mr. Styles,” he says, and Harry swears his eyes twinkle. “Hope you enjoyed your visit.”

“Oh yes, definitely. I’m not a history teacher, you know, so it’s all new to me.” 

“Yeah?” Louis sits down in the grass where Zayn had just been. “What do you teach then?”

“Music.”

“That so? So you’re a musician to boot. Figures.” Harry doesn’t ask what that means. “How did you get roped into this chaperoning business?”

“Oh, I volunteered. They needed an extra set of eyes, and these kids are great. And I mean, who doesn’t like castles?”

“People with no taste, obviously,” Louis grins. “But you liked it then?”

“I did, yeah. Very informative,” he says solemnly. 

Louis rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I know, I tend to go overboard with the fun facts. I forget that not everybody thinks medieval prisons are as fun as I do.”

“No, no, I love the fun facts!” Harry says hastily. “Honestly. And medieval prisons? The funnest.”

Louis laughs. “Alright then, good. Cause school tours are my favorite. Kids ask the best questions.” Harry smiles softly. They fall into silence.

Just then a yeoman warden in red walks briskly by, looking haggard. Close behind is a disgruntled looking tourist wielding a kebab. As they pass, Harry catches a snippet of their conversation.

“The fook d’ya mean the pub is for invited guests only? This woulda never happened in Ireland—“

Harry glances at Louis and they both giggle. “So, are you gonna be one of them one day then?” Harry nods at the yeoman, who looks like he’s trying to decide if throttling this tourist would be worth losing his lofty position. “With a flowery top hat? Is that where you’re headed?”

Louis barks out a laugh at that. “Absolutely not, I’d never wear that. And I wouldn’t fancy going through the background checks either.”

“Dark past?”

“Very. I’d tell you more, but—“

“You’d have to kill me?”

Louis pauses. “Actually, I was gonna say, it’d have to be over drinks.”

“Oh.” _Oh my god_. Harry resists the urge to punch the air like Charlotte.

“Is…er, would that be possible? I mean, later maybe?” 

_Yes, yes very possible. I’m free forever_. “Sure, yeah I’d like that,” Harry says instead. They exchange numbers. 

 

Harry has been sitting on the bus for all of 5 minutes when he gets a text. 

Sent from Louis The Loony Historian:  
 _Can I tell you about 16th century plagues tonight at the Alma?_

Harry doesn’t stop smiling the entire ride back.


End file.
